Turkey and cheese

At lunchtime, a quick jaunt to The Kings Road. So many cars. So many pedestrians. Was it really only that recently that the streets were empty but for two or three isolated masked individuals stealing their lonely way from A to B. Two years ago Harrods was suddenly open and I went in search of Vacherin. A man desperately sold me a pair of snow globes for a fiver. He had a huge pile of them. Nobody was shopping. My quest for Vacherin was in vain though. Not even Harrods.

Today I went to Partridges. “You’re in time, but just. There’s two left. We didn’t get many this year. Supply issues. Do you want them both?” I left the last one for some other lucky fellow.

I have no idea when I first had Vacherin but I love the stuff. It’s the Christmas Cheese. Seasonally produced. Unpasteurised. Stinky. Wonderful. There’s something missing if it’s not there. And I’ve learnt to get it earlier than anything else. It’s one of it things that sometimes runs out. The other is turkey. They’ve had a bout of avian flu so I thought it best to get the bird today and head off any uncertainty. Sometimes I order at the butcher, but this year I trusted Marks and Sparks. I got us all one hundred quid worth of huge big bird. Driving home it was on the passenger seat and the seatbelt alarm kept going off. It’s like a child. I’ll have to get up early on Christmas morning to put it in the oven.

The flat. Oh the flat. I’ll have to pretend I’m someone else and then employ myself to tidy it up. Not enough time. Lots to do. If I don’t keep getting flooded by the size of what needs to be done then I might be able to pick through jobs and make some difference in here. Bedtime now though. And back to the war of brain flood/distraction tomorrow.

The thing to remember is that normally I’m doing Carol and my whole head is full of that. This year that isn’t pulling my focus so I can likely achieve a lot if I push myself or find the right state of mind. It’s hard on my own though. I’m easily distracted and there’s a lot to distract me. Tomorrow will be the benchmark. If I make good progress tomorrow then I’ll be roughly on track. Gods. Best get myself off to bed for a good night’s sleep…

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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